












■ 









Camp Reindeer. See page 31 









































































©)r jTorcst H?omc Series, No. 3. 

4 ue^: 

A Sequel to the Mountaineer Series. cor.es 

sr^ a. p. 


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FIR BOUGHS. 




BY 

WILLIS BOYD ALLEN, 

AUTHOR OF “THE MOUNTAINEER SERIES,” “CHRISTMAS 
AT SURF POINT,” “PINE CONES,” “SILVER RAGS,” 

“ THE NORTHERN CROSS,” “ KELP,” ETC. 


0 * copyright- 4 

AUG 301889 

2 2 ^ ■ 


BOSTON AND CHICAGO: 

Congregational jSuntJagsSrijoal anti ^ublisijing Societo. 




+-PZ 

6 37 


COPYRIGHT, T889, BY 

CONGREGATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL AND PUBLISHING SOCIETY. 



3 

3 

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Electrotyped and Printed by 
Samuel Usher , 77/ Devonshire Street, Boston . 


MY LITTLE WEST INDIAN 


NIECE, 


MARY ADELLA 




I 




CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Off for the Woods.7 

II. The Coming Storm.17 

III. In Camp.28 

IV. Rob’s Celebration.42 

V. Trout Fishing. 51 













FIR BOUGHS. 


CHAPTER I. 

P 

OFF FOR THE WOODS. 

“Winthrop, how should you 
like to camp out with King and 
me for a couple of nights?" 

“ Not all night, father, in a real 
camp ? ” 

“ Should you like to? ” 

“ Oh, jolly, jolly ! Will you take 
us, sir? 

“ If your mother has no objec¬ 
tions, we will start next Thursday 
morning and get back Saturday 
afternoon. Hugh will stay here 



8 


FIR BOUGHS. 


both nights, Polly, so you need n’t 
be afraid of being left alone.” 

Mrs. Alden was a little nervous 
about it, in her heart, but she 
couldn't bear to spoil their fun; 
so she smiled, and said she guessed 
she should have to get along with¬ 
out her three boys for forty-eight 
hours. 

“ You ’ll be glad enough to come 
home,” she added. 

It was one Tuesday morning 
early in June when Mr. Alden 
made this proposition. Winnie 
and King had worked hard since 
the fifteenth of May in preparing 
and planting a garden near the 
log-cabin. He had wanted to give 
the boys some sort of a vacation 
for a day or two ; and as he him- 


OFF FOR THE WOODS. 


9 

seif dearly loved to stay in the 
woods night or day, he had thought 
of this plan. Hugh was to take 
care of the cabin, as we have seen, 
during his absence ; and a bright 
young fellow from the mill had 
offered to look out for the store 
from Thursday until Saturday 
night. 

Never was a boy so happy as 
Winthrop, unless it was his 
brother King, who was one or two 
years older, and was therefore too 
dignified to hop about the floor, 
clapping his hands and shouting, 
as Winnie did. 

Then, too, there were great 
preparations to be made. Blank¬ 
ets were selected, and strapped 
into as tight a bundle as pos- 


IO 


FIR BOUGHS. 


sible. Tin dippers, a coffee-pot, 
a tin pail, and a small frying- 
pan were all the cooking utensils 
they required. For provisions 
they took pork, meal, salt, a little 
corned beef, tea, sugar, and a 
generous supply of bread, which 
kept Mrs. Alden at the oven the 
greater part of the two days that 
remained. Fish-hooks, lines, and 
bait were prepared and carefully 
examined, as Mrs. Alden told the 
boys they would have nothing 
to eat for three days but corned 
beef and bread, unless they caught 
trout. 

Hugh gave one of his great, 
good-natured laughs when he heard 
of all this excitement. 

“ I declare,” said he, 


“ ye’d 


OFF FOR THE WOODS . i { 

think a hull army was startin’ 
off, by the amaount o’ gittin’ 
ready ! ’’ 

Wednesday night was a hard 
one for Winnie. It seemed as if 
he never could go to sleep, he was 
so full of thoughts of the mor¬ 
row ; and his dreams, at last, were 
full of bears and Indians and trout 
of most extraordinary size. 

Next morning he was awake 
and up almost as soon as the sun 
itself, which, as you know, is a 
very early riser in June. 

In fact, the boy dressed himself 
and crept down from the loft so 
early that he found himself stand¬ 
ing in the kitchen quite alone, 
before any body else in the house 
had two eyes open. 


I 2 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“ Well,” thought he, “ I might 
as well go out and feed Whiteface. 
It's the last time I shall see her 
for three days.” 

So he slid back the bolt softly, 
and made his way to the cow’s 
shed. 

Whiteface looked rather sur¬ 
prised to see him, and turned her 
head as far as she could, as much 
as to say : — 

“ What in the world are you 
up for at this time of day? I 
hope the cabin is n’t on fire, or 
any thing ! ” 

I have no doubt that's what 
she tried to say, though all it 
sounded like was a soft and deep 
“ Moo-o-o-o ! ” 

“ Ah, Whiteface,” said Winnie, 



OFF FOR THE WOODS . 13 

“ you Ve no idea what a good 
time I ’m going to have.” 

He kept working all the time as 
he talked. 

The cow seemed to listen with 
great interest for a moment or 
two; then she turned her head 
to the crib again and forgot all 
about Winthrop in eating her 
breakfast. 

“ Pretty soon/’ said the boy, 
“ King will come out and milk 
you, and drive you down to 
the meadow. To-morrow morning 
Hugh will be the one to take care 
of you, and oh, Whiteface, you 
must be very careful not to tread 
on him, or turn over the pail, 
or— Hulloa, King, you up?” as 
his brother entered the shed. 



I 4 FIR BOUGHS. 

“ All ready for fun ?" cried 
King, as gleefully as Winthrop 
himself. “ Is n't it a glorious day 
for the start, Win ? ” 

“ Splendid ! Did you finish put¬ 
ting on those sinkers last night ? ” 
“ Every one of ’em.” 

“ And did you put some red 
apples into the pail ? " 

“ Eight. It makes it pretty 
heavy, but I guess it will grow 
lighter before long ; eh, Win ? ” 
Winnie gave a caper, to show 
that he knew what he meant, 
and dashed off to the wood-pile 
to start the kitchen fire and so 
hurry up the breakfast. 

Pretty soon King came in with 
the milk. Stella came running 
down-stairs with a face bright 



Stella and Creeping Jenny. Page 15 



























































OFF FOR THE WOODS. [5 

as the morning itself, and after a 
kiss for each of her brothers be¬ 
gan to help as earnestly as the 
rest. 

While she strained the morn¬ 
ing’s milk and put it away in 
a cool little half-cellar which the 
boys had dug the autumn before, 
King ground the coffee and Win- 
throp went to the brook for water, 
filled the kettle, gave Whiteface 
a good drink, and brought in a 
pailful for the house. Then 
father and mother came in, and 
lastly wee Jenny, who would soon 
lose her name of “ Creeping,” she 
was growing so strong. 

At breakfast the family all 
bowed their heads as usual. Mr. 
Alden said : — 



I 6 FIR BOUGHS. 

“ Dear Father in heaven, let 
us not forget the hand which 
gives us our daily bread. And 
while we are apart, in the days 
that are at hand, wilt thou take 
tender care of thy children at 
home in the cabin, and those at 
home in the forest; we can not go 
away from home, for it is all home 
wherever thou art. Amen.” 

Half an hour later the boys, 
with their father, bade good-by 
to Mrs. Alden, Stella, and baby, 
and striking into a merry song 
as they went, started up the steep 
mountain-path. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE COMING STORM. 

“ Where do you expect to camp, 
father ? ’’ asked King, after they 
had been walking steadily upward 
for about half an hour. 

“ I mean to go on about a mile 
further by this path, then strike 
off toward the south, and stop 
somewhere beside a brook that 
comes down between those two 
mountains you see beyond the 
valley.'’ 

“Are there any bears there ? ” 

It was Winthrop who spoke 
this time. 

“ Oh, a few. But we are not 


17 


FIR BOUGHS. 


18 

likely to see any. If there were 
any round here, some of the 
hunters would have run across 
their tracks and told us. Look 
at that striped squirrel ! " 

“ What makes mountains, fath¬ 
er ? I mean — I know God 
made them, but how does he 
make them ? ” 

“ There are different ways. But 
most of it is done by thousands 
of little workmen.'' 

« 

“Workmen? How funny! That 
sounds like a fairy story ! ” 

“It is stranger than the queer¬ 
est fairy story you ever read, 
Winnie, and more wonderful. In 
the made-up stories, the giants and 
dwarfs and fairies do something 
great and startling just for a few 




“ Look at that Squirrel 


Page 18 






























THE COMING STORM. ig 

minutes or days ; but the little 
workmen I told you about have 
been working busily and happily 
for nobody knows how many 
thousands of years.” 

“Oh!” 

“ The way they make a moun¬ 
tain is to start with a high, level 
place and carry off little bits from 
every side, leaving a great piece 
standing by itself, which people 
call a hill or a mountain, according 
to the size.” 

“ Do they work all the year 
round ? ” 

“Yes, indeed. Only in winter 
their work is to split off pieces, 
and in the summer to carry it 
away.” 

“ What can they be ? ” 


20 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“ I know,” exclaimed King. “ It 
must be the brooks and rivers, 
beginning with the very littlest 
mites of streams, only a few drops 
of water running together.” 

“ That's it,” replied his father, 
with a smile at the boy’s earnest¬ 
ness. 

“ But how do they split it in 
winter?” 

* i 

“ Why, don’t you see, Win ? 
The water gets into the rocks and 
the ground, and freezes, and so 
splits it by swelling, the way ice 
always does.” 

“ But some hills — see that one 
right ahead — are just smooth and 
round. What makes that ? ” 

King could n’t answer, and 
looked to his father for an expla¬ 
nation. 




THE COMING STORM. 2 I 

“ Many, many thousands of 
years ago — after the evergreen 
time that your mother was telling 
you about, boys — wise men say this 
part of the country was covered 
with thick ice. It moved slowly 
down the valleys, deepening them, 
rounding off the hills, and carrying 
huge rocks from place to place." 

“ That must be what brought 
those big rocks in grandfather’s 
old pasture in Maine ! ’’ 

“ Exactly. When the ice melted, 
down dropped the stone, wherever 
it happened to be. The great 
rocks that have been left in that 
way are often called bowlders.” 

By this time the party was 
ready to leave the path. They 
struck off in the new direction, 




22 


FIR BOUGHS. 


having now no guide except the 
“lay of the land,” as Mr. Alden 
called it, and their compass. 

, It was much harder work than 
before, as the tough boughs of the 
low firs and spruces barred their 
way or sprung back in their faces. 
Then too the moss, though deli¬ 
ciously soft beneath their feet, 
was treacherous and often covered 
sharp rocks or decayed logs, over 
which the travelers stumbled. A 
few miles away were high cliffs 
where eagles built their nests. 
They could see one of the huge 
birds hovering over the forest. 

At last Mr. Alden called a halt 
and proposed lunch. 

“ Good! ” said Winnie, throwing 
down his bundle. “ I ’in as hungry 
as a bear.” 



Eagle Building her Nest. Page 22 




















THE COMING STORM . 


23 


“We can’t stop long, boys, 
because I want to reach the 
camping ground early. We must 
build a good shelter to sleep in, 
and I don’t quite like the looks 
of the sky. 

Winnie glanced up at his father 
in some alarm, but was immediately 
re-assured by his calmness. Some¬ 
how Winnie felt that if his father 
was with him things would come 


out right, no matter what hap¬ 
pened. It would be a great deal 
better, he said to himself, to be out 
in the woods in a storm with his 
father, than in the snuggest of 
houses without him. 

After a short half-hour’s rest 
they pushed on. 

“ See ! ” cried King, as they came 


24 


FIR BOUGHS. 


out into a little open spot, “ how 
black the clouds are ! " 

Mr. Alden had already seen 
them, and pushed on as fast as the 
boys’ strength would allow. 

Suddenly he stopped. 

“Hark!” said he. “I thought 
I heard thunder.” 

They all listened intently. The 
forest was so still that it seemed 
as if they could hear their hearts 
beat. The only sound was the 
rush of a brook a few rods be¬ 
yond. 

Pretty soon the sound came 
again. There was no mistaking 
it — a long, low rumble of thun¬ 
der, echoing far off among the 
mountains. 

“ That settles it, boys,” said Mr. 



THE COMING STORM. 


25 

Alden promptly, starting on again. 
“We must camp in that little 
clump of evergreens right ahead. 
It ’s of no use to think of reach¬ 
ing the spot I was aiming for 
before the storm comes. See, 
there are some white birches, just 
what we want, and plenty of firs 
for bedding .' 1 

In a couple of minutes they had 
reached the place he had pointed 
out, and then how all hands did 
work ! 

Mr. Alden cut down four or five 
bushy young firs with a dozen clips 
of his axe, and directed Winnie to 
break off short boughs and pile 
them in a heap. King was sent to 
peel birch bark, the biggest sheets 
he could get off. Mr. Alden him- 


26 FIR BOUGHS . 

self trimmed three of Winnie’s fir- 
trees and placed two of them 
upright, with one across, like this 
| |. Then he lashed two long 

poles to the tops of the upright 
ones, letting the ends reach back 
to the ground. More poles were 
laid on for rafters, and then sheets 
of bark were placed across like 
shingles, as fast as King could 
bring them. Some of the larger 
boughs were flung upon the bark, 
to keep it from blowing away, 
and other branches were placed 
against the side of the camp 
towards the wind. 

Winnie’s boughs were now 
thrown in, and the blankets and 
provisions on top of them. 

Meanwhile the sky grew blacker 



THE COMING STORM. 


2 7 

and the thunder louder every mo¬ 
ment. It took the three workers 
about half an hour to build the 
camp, and just as the last bundle 
was placed under shelter, big drops 
of rain began to fall. 


CHAPTER III. 


IN CAMP. 

“ Hurry up, Win ! Pull your 
feet in out of the rain ! ” 

The three campers threw them¬ 
selves at full length on the heap 
of fragrant fir boughs, glad enough 
to get under shelter. 

Winthrop crept over as near his 
father as possible. He could not 
help being a little bit afraid, as the 
lightning glittered among the trees, 
and thunder crashed overhead. 

H ow it did pour! The sheets 
of birch bark kept off most of it, 
but a stream did trickle down here 
and there, keeping the boys dodg¬ 
ing from one side to the other. 


IN CAMP. 


2 9 

“Are you afraid, father?” Win¬ 
nie asked once. 

“ No, my boy. You would n’t 
be afraid if you saw me mending 
the roof of our cabin, would you, 
no matter how hard the blows 
sounded ? ” 

“ But lightning would kill me.” 

“So would the hammer if it hit 
you. And God is ever so much 
more careful with, this thunder 
and lightning than I could pos¬ 
sibly be with my tools.” 

After an hour of heavy rain, the 
storm rolled off over the moun¬ 
tains, the rain ceased, and the 
setting sun shone out brightly. 

“It’s a regular gold-pour in¬ 
stead of rain-pour ! ” cried King, 
pointing to the glistening tops 
of the firs all around them. 


30 


FIR BOUGHS. 


The first thing to be done was 
to build a fire. The camp had 
been built near a large rock, and in 
front of this Mr. Alden proposed 
to have the camp-fire. Every¬ 
thing, however, seemed to be soak¬ 
ing wet. 

“ I don’t see what we can use 
for kindlings,” said Winnie dis¬ 
consolately. “ The trees are just 
dripping.” 

“ I guess we ’ll find a way.” 

Mr. Alden was an old camper, 
and knew just what to do at such 
a time as this. 

“You peel off some of the inner 
strips of that birch bark, Winthrop. 
Reach up under the rafters, where 
the rain has n't come through. 
Now, King, you and I will find 
some dry splints.” 


IN CAMP. 


31 

Taking the axe he walked up to 
the dead trunk of an old pine ; a 
“ stub," as the woodsmen call it. 
It was full of holes where wood¬ 
peckers had built their nests in it, 
and was, all together, about twice 
as high as his head. 

“ Now, then, look out! " 

And whack ! went the axe into 
the side of the old stub. 

Another blow, and another. 
Long splints, riven out of the very 
center of the tree by the axe, began 
to fall. Presently there was a good 
armful. “Dry as chips!" King 
joyfully shouted to Winnie. 

In five minutes more the reel 
blaze was dancing up through the 
wood, and crackling in the jolliest 
wav imaginable. 


3 2 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“ We won’t try to catch any fish 
to-night,” said Mr. Alden : “ it’s so 
late. To-morrow morning, though, 
we must have trout for breakfast.” 

A simple meal was prepared, of 
beef, toasted bread and butter, and 
tea; they all ate with great relish, 
and had a merry time over their 
first supper in the woods. 

The half-hour of fading daylight 
that remained they used in gather¬ 
ing fire-wood for the night. Mr. 
Alden felled a good-sized birch, 
and cut it into six-foot lengths for 
the fire. 

When all was prepared, and the 
flames were hissing and humming 
cosily among the wet twigs, the 
campers once more threw them¬ 
selves down on the fir boughs, 


IN CAMP. 


33 

over which they had first laid 
their heaviest blanket. 

“ Almost Fourth of July,” 
mused Winnie, listening to the 
fire that snapped as loudly as 
crackers. “ I wonder what we 
shall do.” 

“ Oh, celebrate some way, I 
guess,” said King. “ Father,” he 
added suddenly, “ it’s a splendid 
time for a story. Can’t you tell 
us one about the Fourth ? ” 

“Well, let me see,” said Mr. 
Alden thoughtfully. “ I don’t 
know but I can. I can tell you 
about a boy who made a little 
Declaration of Independence all 
of his own.” 

“ Oh, good ! Let’s hear about 

him.” 


34 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“Very well," said Mr. Alden. 
“ I '11 make the story last just as 
long as that birch stick does. The 
one in the middle, I mean. When 
that breaks in two, I ’ll stop tell- 
mg. 

“ Ho ! " said Winnie, “ I’d just 
like to sprinkle a little water on 

• i >> 

it. 

Mr. Alden stretched himself out 
comfortably, and began as follows : 

“ Hooray for the Fourth ! Only 
two weeks off ! 

Rob Sutton rushed into the 
house after school, slamming the 
door after him. His mother had 
winced a little at the sudden noise, 
but met her boy with the pleasant 
smile he loved to see. 


IN’ CAMP. 


35 

“ What are you planning to do 
on the glorious Fourth, Rob?” 
she asked, as he looked up into 
her face. 

“ Oh, Dick Reed and I are 
goin’ to get up at three o’clock and 
set off two bunches of crackers 
an’ half a dozen cannon-crackers, 
and then fire off his new brass 
cannon, and ” 

“ There’s one thing I have n’t 
heard yet,” observed Mrs. Sutton, 
her arm still round the boy. 

“What’s that, mother—pin- 
wheels? Just wait till night!” 

“No, I wasn’t thinking of pin- 
wheels nor Roman candles,” she 
said, laughing outright this time. 
“ I was a little surprised that you 
did n’t plan something that should 




FIR BOUGHS. 


36 

really keep in mind the anniver¬ 
sary. You know what the day is 
for? ” 

“ Of course, ma’am. The Dec¬ 
laration of Independence! 5 

Rob straightened up a little as 
he said it. 

“ Well, if I were you I’d have 
one this year.” 

“ A ‘ declaration of independ¬ 
ence ’ ? H ow, mother ? There’s 
nobody ruling over us now. I 
just wish there was a war; 
would n’t I fight ’em ! " 

“ Why did n’t you shut the gate 
behind you, yesterday, Rob, when 
you went to meet Dick? You 
know how the cattle got in and 
trampled on the garden.” 

Rob hung his head at the recol¬ 
lection. 


nv CAMP. 


37 

“ I could n’t stop, ma’am. I had 
to be on hand with the fellows.” 

“ Could n't stop ? Had to be ? 
I thought ‘ nobody ruled over us ’ 
nowadays.” 

“Well — I mean ” — 

“ Don’t think I am scolding, 
Robbie. We finished all the sober 
talk about the gate yesterday. 
But, you see, you were really a 
servant to your desire to play. 
When you put off going on my 
errand till too late this morning, 
it was laziness that commanded 
you to stand still, and you obeyed. 
If I were a boy I’d declare inde¬ 
pendence on the Fourth of July, 
once for all — independence of all 
unjust and bad masters, like the 
one I spoke of.” 



FIR BOUGHS . 


38 

“That’s splendid!” cried Rob, 
catching the idea at once. “ I ’ll 
get Dick and some of the other 
fellows to join. Would you write 
it out, mother ? ‘ When in the 

course of human events it becomes 
necessary for one boy to run er¬ 
rands ’ — that ’s the way it ought 
to begin.” 

“ Hardly necessary to write it, I 
think,” answered Mrs. Sutton, with 
her gentle smile. “ There is just 
One to whom you may repeat all 
your promises and declarations, 
and who will help you till you 
have ‘ perfect liberty.' Now run 
off to your dinner, and we ’ll see 
how your resolutions prosper.” 

Dick Reed was enthusiastic over 
the new way of observing the 
Fourth. 



IN CAMP. 


39 

'‘That is,” said he, “ if you don’t 
leave out crackers.” 

“ I don’t see,” remarked Rob 
gravely, after a moment’s reflec¬ 
tion, “ that crackers have any thing 
to do with it, or pin-wheels. I’m 
not quite sure about serpents, be¬ 
cause they scare girls, an’ it s no 
fun lettin' ’em off unless there’s 
somebody round to screech when 
they begin to fizz.” 

Serpents were accordingly ruled 
out. 

“ Like tea in the old times,” 
put in Roland Jackson, a third 
patriot. 

The night before the Fourth was 
hot and sultry. As soon as the 
sun set horns began to toot in the 
town of Birchville, where Rob lived, 


FIR BOUGHS. 


40 

and guns to pop. Invalids turned 
wearily in their beds, and wished 
the great day were ended instead 
of beginning. Men with gray in 
beard and hair remembered their 
own boyish days and longed to 
go out and toot with the young¬ 
sters. Rob retired early, having 
left a piece of string hanging out 
of his window, with the end a few 
feet from the ground. The other 
end was attached firmly to his 
thumb, and Dick was bound by 
solemn agreement to “ yank ” the 
aforesaid string at exactly 2.55 
A.M. 

“ I ’ll pull,” said Dick earnestly, 
“ till you wake up or come out o’ 
that window.” 


Rob’s Open Window. Page 40. 






































IN CAMP. 


41 


At this point in the story the 
great birch log sagged a little, 
then fairly broke in two, sending 
up a shower of sparks into the 
dark sky.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” cried Winnie. “ We 
must n’t stop there, father. Do 
finish it ! ” 

“Well,” said Mr. Alden laugh¬ 
ingly, “ if you 'll put on another 
log and stir up the fire a little, 
I ’ll tell you about Rob’s celebra¬ 
tion.” 





CHAPTER IV. 

rob’s celebration. 

“There,” said Winthrop, creep¬ 
ing into the shelter again, and 
brushing pieces of wet bark 
and moss from his jacket, “that 
fire will last as long as the story 
does this time, I guess.” 

“ All ready, sir,” said King. 
“ Did the boys’ plan work well ? ” 

Mr. Alden answered by going 
on with the story. 

Rob found no difficulty next 
morning in waking at the sum¬ 
mons. It was half an hour sooner 
than the appointed time, to be 


42 


ROB'S CELEBRATION\ 


43 

sure, but Dick never wavered for 
a trifle like that. With pockets 
stuffed full of delicious-smelling 
red crackers and slow-match, the 
two boys crept off to a vacant field 
near by. There they found half a 
dozen others similarly armed, and 
grouped about a good-sized brass 
cannon. 

“ Wait till just three! ” com¬ 
manded Rob, who was the leader. 
“ Lucky we thought of this place to 
fire. One of the selectmen called on 
my father only last night and said 
we must n’t make a disturbance in 
the other end of the town before 
six o’clock.” 

The boys fidgeted, lighted their 
slow-match, and swung it about in 
fiery circles. 


44 


FIR BOUGHS. 


At a quarter before three, Ro¬ 
land Jackson fired a cracker right 
in their midst, by accident. 

“ Well, we might as well begin 
now,” said Rob, rather relieved at 
the excuse. “ Horns all ready ? 
Bunch of crackers ? Cannon load¬ 
ed — grass in the muzzle to make 
her speak? Now, when I say 
three.” 

“ One — ” 

Before he got any farther a 
slight little figure flitted into the 
circle. 

“Oh, boys ! please don’t fire off 
any thing loud. My mother’s 
sick, and father — he’s” — 

“ Drunk! ” finished one of the 
boys roughly. “ I saw him drink¬ 
ing last night. Let \s go ahead. 






ROB'S CELEBRATION. 45 

What odds will it make ? They ’ll 
all be firing soon.” 

“ Please ! ” began the girl. 

“ Oh, go ahead, Dick. Touch 
off your cannon. The slow- 
match ’s all burnin’ up. I say 
let’s fire, don’t you, fellows?” 

There was a murmur of assent, 
and one or two called out, “ Fire 
away ! ” 

“ Please ! ” 

“You shut up an’ go home, 
Doll Harkins. We can’t have all 
our fun spoiled by ” — 

“ Can’t! Who says we can’t ? ” 
It was Rob’s voice, clear and 
strong in the dim twilight. He 
had been silent until now, fighting 
his battle. 

“ Who says we can’t?” he re- 


FIR BOUGHS. 


46 

peated. “ I, for one, can do what I 
please. I do want to have a good 
time, and a regular old slam. But 
I want still more to do the right 
thing. I can’t answer for any of 
you fellows, but the want-to-have- 
a-good-time sha’n’t rule over me, I 
can tell you. I go in for inde¬ 
pendence.” 

Rob paused for breath after his 
speech. The boys were puzzled. 
This was a new view of the mat¬ 
ter. 

“ Hooray for the Declaration ! ” 
shouted Dick, half under his 
breath. “ Put my name down 
under yours.” 

Well, you can easily see that 
the tide was turned. Boys have 
good hearts, and the whole crowd 


ROBE CELEBRATION. 


47 

stuffed crackers into pockets once 
more, to go to far-off fields or wait 
until a later hour. 

Dollie dried her tears, and went 
back to her mother, who was sleep¬ 
ing restfully in a little hovel near 
by. In the course of the day Mr. 
Sutton called there, and left bright¬ 
ness and hope, for the girl’s father 
was not a bad man, and was full 
of remorse when he came to him¬ 
self. 

As for Rob and the rest, they 
made noise enough during the 
daylight hours to last for a twelve- 
month ; at least, so thought the 
neighbors. 

“ I told Him about it last even¬ 
ing,'' Rob whispered to his moth¬ 
er, when she sat down by his bed 


FIR BOUGHS. 


48 

that night, and kissed her boy’s 
forehead. “ I did n’t know how 
soon I d have to ‘ declare,’ but I 
guess He helped me, don't you, 
mother ? ” 

There was silence for a minute 
or two in the little camp, as Mr. 
Alden finished his story. 

Then Winnie, having remarked 
that it was “ first-rate,” gave a tre¬ 
mendous yawn. 

The other two laughed. 

“ I guess it’s somebody’s bed¬ 
time,” said his father. 

It was a long time before Win- 
throp could get asleep. The forest 
was very dark, and he could not 
help fancying he heard wild beasts 
stepping softly to and fro behind 
the camp. 


ROB'S CELEBRA T/OAT. 


49 

Having at last dropped into 
a heavy sleep, he was aroused at 
about midnight by a long, dismal 
note from the depths of the woods. 

It almost froze Winthrop’s 
blood in his veins, it was so 
like the wolf’s howl he had 
read of in books. 

“ Father, father ! ” he whispered 
with a shaking voice, “ I’m 
afraid ! " 

Mr. Alden, who had himself been 
drowsing until his son spoke, 
reached over and clasped his little 
frightened hand. In a moment 
the terrible voice came again. 

“ Ow-oo-o-oo ! ” it echoed in the 
darkness. 

“ What is it, father?" asked 
Winthrop again, clinging to his 
father’s hand. 


50 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“ Only an owl, my son. Go to 
sleep again, dear.” 

Oh, what a comfort that was ! 
Winnie’s hair seemed to smooth 
itself down again. 

Still he could not let go his 
father’s hand, but held it from the 
very memory of his fright; and, 
so holding it, went to sleep. 


CHAPTER V. 


TROUT-FISHING. 

When Winnie awoke the next 
morning, the first sound he heard 
was such a beautiful one that he 
almost held his breath to listen. 
Winnie had never heard a flute, 
and did not know that it sounded 
like one; but he knew it was a 
bird singing gloriously, and that 
is even better than a flute. 

“A hermit thrush!” exclaimed 
Mr. Alden, who was already 
awake. 

Then they listened again to the 
wonderful music. 

But Winnie was too real a boy 


FIR BOUGHS. 


52 

to lie in bed long hearing a bird 
sing. The air was full of the 
balsamic fragrance of the fir, and 
with a rush of delight he realized 
that he was in the woods, and 
had still a whole day and night 
to come before it would be time to 
go home. 

All three of the campers, now 
thoroughly roused from sleep, 
jumped up and ran to the brook, 
where they had a wash in the deli¬ 
cious clear water. 

“ Whew! ” cried Winnie, scatter¬ 
ing the bright drops round him 
like a sparrow in its bath; “isn’t 
it cold ! ’’ 

“ Splendid ! Shall we go on any 
farther to-day, father ? ” 

“ I guess not, King. I don’t 


TROUT-FISHING. 


53 

believe we can find a better spot 
than this, and here’s our camp, 
all built/’ 

“ What shall we name it, 
father ? ” 

“ I think we’d better call it 
‘ Camp Reindeer.’ ” 

“Why?” 

“ On account of the rain, dear," 
said Mr. Alden, with a twinkle in 
his eye. 

“ O-oh! ” cried King, with a 
shout, “what a joke, father! I 
thought you called it so because 
there were n’t any reindeer here ” 

“ Or because it rained ere we 
were ready,’’ suggested Mr. Alden 
solemnly. 

Winnie had been thinking it 
out. Now he chimed in with his 
suggestion. 


54 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“ We 'll call it ‘ Reindeer ’ be¬ 
cause it rained here',' said he. At 
which, of course, there was an¬ 
other shout. 

“Now, boys,” said Mr. Alden, 
their rather hasty toilet being com¬ 
pleted, “ if you want any break¬ 
fast, you Ve got to catch it first.” 

“All right, sir. Here goes. 
Come along, Win, with the bait.” 

King was a good fisherman for 
a boy of his size, and had often 
provided the Mountaineers with 
a good mess of trout. 

“ Very well,” added his father. 
“I’ll build up the fire and have 
some tea and hasty pudding ready 
by the time you are back with the 
trout. Don’t stay more than an 
hour, King. Keep close beside 


TROUT-FISHING. 


55 

the brook, and in any case stop 
fishing when you’ve caught two 
dozen. That will be enough for 
breakfast.” 

Winthrop was greatly excited; 
he had never been fishing - before. 

- o 

King cut two short, slender rods 
from some young birches growing 
by the brook-side. 

“ If we were down in the mead¬ 
ows,” he said to Winnie, as he 
trimmed the rods, “ I ’d take al¬ 
ders. But up here on the moun¬ 
tains we must just take the best 
we can find." 

f 

His brother watched the opera¬ 
tion of trimming with great inter¬ 
est, and as soon as the rods were 
finished, helped King tie the lines 
to the tips. The hooks and sink¬ 
ers were already on the lines. 


FIR BOUGHS. 


58 

“ Do you suppose it hurts them 
awfully, King?" asked Winthrop, 
who was a tender-hearted little 
fellow. 

“ I don’t believe it is very com¬ 
fortable to be hauled out of the 
water with a hook," admitted the 
older boy. “ But people who have 
studied about it say that fish can’t 
suffer so very much. Insects suf¬ 
fer less than fish, and so on. I 
believe we were meant to catch 
fish and eat them, anyway; and 
we ’ll be just as merciful about it 
as we can. It's no worse than 
we do to cows and even sheep." 

Winnie looked relieved, and 
crept off to another pool. King 
now began to fish, and their string 
lengthened rapidly. They caught 


TROUT-FISHING. ^g 

no more, however, as large as . 
Winnies first prize. 

The fish bit well, and it was 
within the half-hour that the 
twenty-fourth trout was landed. 
The boys drew in their lines, stuck 
the hooks into the soft bark of 
their rods, and started up-hill for 
camp. 

“ Hurrah ! ” shouts Winthrop, 
as he sees a column of smoke 
mounting gayly among the fir-tops. 

“ Look, father! ” holding up the 
string. 

“Well done!” says Mr. Alden, 
turning the string round admir¬ 
ingly. “ That \s a big one at the 
bottom.” 

“ I caught him, the very first 
one.” 


6 o 


FIR BOUGHS. 


“ That was a good beginning. 
Now put your rod away, Winnie, 
and watch me while I dress the 
fish, so that you will know how 
yourself next time.” 

Winnie is much interested in 
this, and finally thinks he could 
do it as well as his father, if he 
were cast away on a desert island. 

“ Only they lose their knives, 
getting ashore from the wreck,” 
remarks King thoughtfully. 

“ Ah, but they make new ones 
from rusty iron hoops!’’ cries 
Winthrop. 

They laugh, wash faces and 
hands again, and sit down to 
breakfast, Mr. Alden having mean¬ 
while fried the fish. 


“ Plates ! ” cries Mr. Alden ; and 


TROUT-FISHING. 


61 

King jumps up, runs off a little 
way, and returns with half a dozen 
pieces of clean birch bark. 

What a jolly breakfast! Mr. 
Alden tells stories, and keeps the 
boys laughing half the time. 
Winnie does not relish tea with¬ 
out milk, and prefers brook water 
cold as ice. While the campers 
are enjoying themselves, the 
thrush sings sweetly in the 
depths of the forest. 

“ Now,” said Mr. Alden, after 
the meal was over, “what shall 
we do next ? ” 

Winthrop was in favor of going 
a-fishing again, but it was finally 
decided to take a walk to the top 
of a mountain not far away. The 
view was grand. 


62 


FIR BOUGHS. 


The way back to camp seemed 
very long. The boys were tired, 
and looked forward to a good rest 
on those fir boughs. 

“Aren’t we most there?’’ asked 
Winnie at length. 

His father glanced at him rather 
anxiously. 

“ I ’m sorry you re tired, my 
son,” he said in his tender way, 
without answering his question 
directly. 

After half an hour’s more hard 
walking he suddenly stopped and 
said: — 

“ Boys, I may as well tell you 
that I don’t know the nearest way 
back to camp. It can’t be far 
away, but I think we had better 
have lunch before we go farther.” 



TROUT-FISHING. 


63 

Fortunately all three had filled 
their pockets before leaving camp. 
They were very hungry, but Mr. 
Alden made them save half the 
supply; and they knew he was 
afraid they might have to stay out 
all night. 

On they tramped again, growing 
more and more wearv. There was 

j 

no sign of a storm this afternoon, 
but the air was hot and sultry. 

Lower and lower sank the sun. 

“We may as well be looking for 
a place to camp,” said Mr. Alden 
quietly. 

Winnie looked up into his 
father’s face, and tried hard to be 
brave. But hunger, fatigue, and 
dread of the dark night in that 
lonely place, all twitched at his 


FIR BOUGHS. 


64 

lips and made a lump in his 
throat. 

“I think that would be a good 
place ”— began King, when Win¬ 
nie uttered a cry of fear. 

“ O father, father,” he whis¬ 
pered, “ there’s a fire in the trees 
ahead ! Can it be Indians ? ” 

The others stopped and looked 
eagerly in the direction pointed 
out by the boy. They could see 
nothing. 

“ You must be mistaken,” said 
Mr. Alden. “ Besides, there are n’t 
any Indians about here, that I 
know of.” 

“Oh, I saw it, sir, just as plain! 
It flared right up, and then died 
away. There — look, look!” his 
voice dying away to a whisper 
again. 




TROUT-FISHING. 


6 5 

All three advanced slowly. The 
flickering light of a fire could now 
be seen plainly. 

All at once King gave a joyful 
shout. 

“ Home again ! Its our own old 
camp-fire, and here we are, safe in 
camp ! ” 

Sure enough, there was the 
shelter, looking snug and home¬ 
like. One or two old brands in 
the fire had been puffed into a 
blaze by the wind, and it was 
their first light that Winnie had 
seen. 

Oh, how good the soft fir boughs 
felt! As soon as the campers 
had had a fifteen minutes’ rest, 
they set about their preparations 
for supper. King had time before 


66 fir boughs. 

dark to walk down the brook a 
little way, and catch some trout. 
He brought in a string of fourteen, 
some of them pretty good-sized 
ones. 

Very thankful and happy, the 
man and his two sons sat down 
to their evening meal. Just as 
they had finished and had built 
up the fire for the night, hark! the 
hermit thrush began to sing as 
sweetly as ever. 

The boys slept that night as 
they never slept before, and the 
sun was high Friday morning 
before the camp was fairly awake. 

After breakfast they packed up 
their blankets, gave three rousing 
cheers for “ Camp Reindeer/’ and 
started for home.? 

* e 


TROUT-FISHING. 


67 

The walk was a pleasant one, 
and as the last part of the way 
was down hill, it seemed an easy 
one. 

Polly, Stella, Hugh, and Baby 
Jenny were all out in front of the 
cabin when they reached home. 

“ Glad to see ye back,” said 
the backwoodsman. “Didn’t know 
but ye’d like it so well ye’d 
stay the year out up in the 
maountains.” 

“ I am very thankful,” said Polly 
softly, as she held her dear ones in 
her arms again. 

“Den, Den!” cooed Jenny, 
creeping and toddling up to be 
taken notice of, while Stella’s 
face shone like the little star she 


was. 


68 


FIR BOUGHS. 


The story of the “ Fir Boughs ” 
is ended, but there is much more 
to tell about the Forest Home and 
the Mountaineers. 

The next volume will be called 


A Leaf of Laurel. 









